Act 2 - Scene 3
An ante-chamber of the QUEEN'S apartments.
Enter ANNE and an Old Lady
Not for that neither: here's the pang that pinches:
His highness having lived so long with her, and she
good a lady that no tongue could ever
Pronounce dishonour of her; by my life,
She never knew harm-
doing: O, now, after
So many courses of the sun enthroned,
Still growing in a majesty and pomp, the which
leave a thousand-fold more bitter than
'Tis sweet at first to acquire, after this process,
To give her the
avaunt! it is a pity
Would move a monster.
Hearts of most hard temper
Melt and lament for her.
O, God's will! much better
She ne'er had known pomp: though't be temporal,
Yet, if that quarrel, fortune,
It from the bearer, 'tis a sufferance panging
As soul and body's severing.
Alas, poor lady!
She's a stranger now again.
So much the more
Must pity drop upon her. Verily,
I swear, 'tis better to be lowly born,
And range with
humble livers in content,
Than to be perk'd up in a glistering grief,
And wear a golden sorrow.
Is our best having.
By my troth and maidenhead,
I would not be a queen.
Beshrew me, I would,
And venture maidenhead for't; and so would you,
For all this spice of your hypocrisy:
that have so fair parts of woman on you,
Have too a woman's heart; which ever yet
Which, to say sooth, are blessings; and which gifts,
Saving your mincing, the capacity
your soft cheveril conscience would receive,
If you might please to stretch it.
Nay, good troth.
Yes, troth, and troth; you would not be a queen?
No, not for all the riches under heaven.
Copyright: All texts on Bibliomania are © Bibliomania.com Ltd,
and may not be reproduced in any form without our written permission.
See our FAQ for more details.